Obliviate
by Iwillsingyoulullabys
Summary: Hermione wakes up in Draco Malfoy's bed after The Battle of Hogwarts. How the hell did she get there? Draco tells her that it's actually 2005 and she has lost her memories of the past 7 years due to a head injury. With his help will she recover them? Or will she learn something darker?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Darkness enveloped her. It lay heavy on her body, suffocating her, restricting her moves so she was as stiff as a corpse. Her head felt as if there was a fire in her skull, in danger of exploding out. She tried twitching her fingers, but nothing would move. Her eyes were unable to adapt to the darkness, so she had no idea where she was.

"Hermione!" A familiar voice cried out. "Hermione!"

"I'm here!" She wanted to scream back. "I'm here." But the darkness stopped her from speaking. It didn't stop her from trying. Every fibre of her being fought to part her lips, to find her voice, to get herself out of this situation.

"Hermione!" The voice continued to call. "Hermione, where are you?"

The darkness was unable to stop the tears flowing down her cheeks. "I'm here." The voice wouldn't leave her body. "I'm here."

Hermione Granger woke with a start.

"Breathe." She told herself firmly. "Breathe. It was just a dream."

The nightmares had started when she was fifteen and hit with Dolohov's curse. Dreams of being trapped in her body unable to move, stuck in the darkness and feeling as if she would die there. As the curse was cast non-verbally, Dumbledore had been unable to find out what the full intention of it was. Considering her coma had been a lesser form of it, Hermione tried not to think too much what the real plan had been. Since Voldemort's defeat, the nightmares had turned into a memory.

Until now.

As Hermione's eyes adjusted to the darkness she frowned. This was not where she went to sleep. Not that she could remember going to bed in the first place. Her mind fogged as she tried to recall her last moments, memories leaping about and weaving together until they didn't make any sense.

From what she could see in the dim light, the room was far grander than anywhere she usually went to sleep. A hotel? Perhaps a drunken night had led her here, too drunk to head home. But where was home?

"Breathe." She told herself again, fiercely this time. "Breathe."

Every time her mind landed on a piece of information, it darted away again, too quick for her to remember anything about it. Her panic rose as she realised, she didn't even know what year it. A slight shift in the mattress alerted her that she was not alone in the bed. Fighting the urge to leap out and run away, Hermione cautiously slipped out of the duvet to get a better look at her bedfellow without waking them.

He had his back to her, but the striking white blonde of his hair made him unmistakable. Quickly Hermione clamped a hand over her mouth to stop her from crying out. This couldn't be happening. Her fingers touched the soft cotton of her nightgown for reassurance as she kept her gaze fixed on the sleeping form of her old classmate.

The Battle of Hogwarts. The memory swam into view clear and precise. Voldemort was dead. She was hugging Ron and Harry. They held onto each other as if they'd never let go. It was the last thing she remembered.

As a Death Eater, Draco Malfoy should not be sleeping on fluffy pillows under an ornate satin cover. By rights he should be sleeping on the cold floor of Azkaban awaiting trial.

Unless they'd not won at all. Had something gone wrong? Had their victory only been a rouse? Desperately she tried to move through her memories for some idea, but everything remained disjointed and confusing. But how else would she have wound up in Draco Malfoy's bed?

She needed to escape. Her eyes cast over the bedside cabinet next to where he lay sleeping, was his wand in there? Was hers? Having spent nearly 7 years with a wand, now being without one left her feeling naked. Often she would look at her parents and wonder how they managed to cope without one, how they managed to feel safe.

Heart pounding in her chest, Hermione slowly crept round the bed towards the cabinet. Every pad of her feet on the soft carpet felt like an earthquake and her breathing felt like a howling storm, but he did not wake.

The drawer knob was the face of a dragon, a pair of amber eyes watching her as she made to clasp her hands around it. She knew it was only a small piece of metal, but it seemed so real. The eyes watching her left her uneasy. Hurriedly she covered them with her hand. As gently as she could, Hermione began to pull at the drawer, desperately praying that it wouldn't creak. The drawer not making a noise was her only reward. Her wand was not in there. A handful of sickles, a broken quill and letter opener carved from jet. She picked up the latter praying she wouldn't have to use it.

A wardrobe stood in the corner of the room, but a voice told Hermione it would be a waste of time searching in there. Malfoy could wake up at any moment and rummaging through a wardrobe would be one way to wake him up faster. Not that she much relished leaving without her wand. This was Malfoy Manor, she'd guessed, how many others could be crawling around?

A decision needed to be made. The window in Draco's room gave no indication where they were, perhaps a cautious explore in another couple of rooms might help. Her hand curled around the sharp piece of jet, a crude weapon but it was all she had. She would have to be brave.

Her hand curled around the doorknob, flinching at how cold it was. Breath hitched; she slowly began to turn it.

The door would not open.

Trying hard not to panic, Hermione tried again, a touch firmer this time but it still would not budge. She tried again, shaking the doorknob, pulling and pushing with all of her might. She had to get out.

"Hermione?"

The witch whirled around pointing her newly acquired weapon at the source of the voice. Malfoy jumped back; hands held up. "Woah." He seemed surprised. "Steady there."

"Where are we?" Adrenaline was surging through her body, she tried not to shake. "Where have you taken me? Is this Malfoy Manor?"

To her surprise he ran his hand through his hair anxiously, bringing his hand to rub on the nape of his neck. "The Healers said this might happen." It was more to himself than to her.

"What might?" The statement had caught her off guard. Recovering, she gripped the letter opener tighter. "Tell me what's going on, Malfoy."

Malfoy's face softened. "It's ok, Hermione. You're safe. I'm here."

"Don't patronise me." She snapped. "I know you're here. That's precisely why I'm not safe. Why have you brought me here?"

"You live here. I know-" He held up his hand to silence her when she opened her mouth to argue. "I know you don't remember at the moment, but I hope you will soon. What year do you think it is?"

"1998." Hermione chewed her lip, frightened now for an entirely different reason. "It's May, 1998. Harry killed Voldemort." Her face paled. "Please say Voldemort's dead."

"He is." Malfoy said hurriedly, taking a step towards her. When she lunged with the letter opener he retreated. "Voldemort's gone. He's not coming back. He's not coming back."

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. It made her angry. She would not be weak in front of Draco Malfoy. "It's 1998." She repeated. "It's 1998."

"Hermione, no." Malfoy said sadly, his grey eyes looked at her with a kindness she had never seen before. "It's 2005."

The letter opener dropped to the floor.

Her head began to swim again. He couldn't be right. No.

"It's 2005, Hermione." Malfoy breathed. "And you're my wife."


	2. Chapter 2

It had to be a joke. Some sick and twisted joke. Hermione stared at him, waiting for the Malfoy smirk to curl onto his lips. For his eyes to narrow and darken. For the cruel laugh that would surely follow.

It did not come. Instead he looked at her with tender caution, his silver eyes soft and gentle. Even still, she would not believe it. It made her feel nauseous. Her brown eyes darted quickly to the letter opener on the floor between them. When she lunged for it, he raised his wand.

Chains flew out of his wand, encircling Hermione's wrists and pulling her back to the wall before she could even blink. The cold metal bruised her wrists. As Hermione cried out in surprise, she suddenly found herself gagged. Pulling the chains was useless, they were welded to the wall. Panic rose in her chest, angry tears brimming in her eyes, her stomach churning with fear. Was this it? Was his rouse for nothing? Where was Ron? Where was Harry? Were they safe?

When Malfoy came towards her, she kicked out at him. Her situation was dire, but she wasn't going down without a fight. Every fibre of her being burned like a roaring fire. She would not make this easy for him.

"Woah!" Malfoy jumped back; his pinched face worried. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm sorry." His cheeks began to flush as he gabbled hurriedly. "Please, Hermione. I mean you no harm. Please let me explain. I can prove it to you." He swallowed nervously. "I'll remove the spell. Just, please, hear me out."

The fire quietened down. If they had been in this situation, Harry and Ron would have fought and screamed over Malfoy for as long as they could. But why would Malfoy continue to keep up this rouse? Hermione knew that knowledge was power. If you really wanted to defeat someone, you had to know all their cards.

Malfoy was still looking at her eagerly. This new side to him unnerved her. He looked like a child. When she nodded he breathed a sigh of relief.

The chains vanished as quickly as they'd arrived. The gag disappearing but leaving her mouth tender. Malfoy watched her warily, as if waiting for her to attack. When she merely surveyed him with her dark eyes, waiting for him to get on with it, he spoke quickly as if fearing being interrupted.

"Almost a week ago you sustained a head injury. You've been out since then. The Healers said that you'd make a full recovery but said there was a small chance you could lose some of your memories." He bit his lip. "I just never prepared for you to lose seven years of your life. Our life."

He looked so genuine. A different person from the Malfoy she knew. But Hermione wasn't the kind to be swayed by a pretty story. As he tried to smile at her, she kept her face impassive. His shoulders sagged a little at her reaction.

"Do you really remember nothing?" The sad look in his eyes was unfamiliar to her. "Do you remember anything at all?"

Her last memory. Voldemort was defeated. The three of them held on together as if they'd never let go, sagging in the relief that this was all finally over. A crushing weight that had been lifted. She remembered how warm they'd felt. She remembered feeling safe.

"Anything about me?" Malfoy's prompt interrupted her train of thought.

She allowed herself a brief scowl. "You were standing with your parents. You and your father looked worried. Your mother looked relieved." Hermione frowned. "Your mother saved Harry's life."

"Yes!" Malfoy said eagerly, taking a step towards her. His face briefly fell as she took a step away again. "Yes, Hermione. My mother saved his life. Potter testified in the trial she'd done this and the Ministry of Magic put us under house arrest instead of Azkaban." His grey eyes softened. "You helped rehabilitate me."

"The Order would never have allowed that." The words flew out of her mouth before she had the time to consider them. "I'm a muggleborn. Going into your home would have been dangerous. Besides," Hermione felt the scar on her arm burn. "I would never go back there."

Malfoy's eyes flickered to her arm where the scar could still be seen. "You decided to be brave." He said softly. "You're right. The Order didn't want you going. Potter in particular put up a fight about it. But you were determined. You wanted to fix us."

Hermione still wasn't prepared to let her guard down but holding it up felt exhausting. "You've still not given me any concrete proof, Malfoy." Her eyes narrowed. "Spinning me a fairytale isn't going to work. I deal with facts. You could always show me your memories."

"Do you have any idea how much a Pensieve costs, Hermione?" Malfoy ran a hand through his hair exasperated. "They're incredibly hard to come by."

"You're telling me the Malfoy's have never had a Pensieve?" She laughed. "With all the wealth of the Malfoy's? Your father has spent his life buying anything he likes and paying off anyone who might get too difficult."

"We did have a Pensieve." She could see the tension rising in him as he rocked on his feet. "We had to sell it."

"Well use that enormous fortune of yours to buy another and maybe I'll believe you."

"It's not that simple."

"Sounds perfectly simple to me. Just buy one. Or ask one of your wealthy friends to lend you theirs."

"I don't know anyone with a Pensieve."

"Then buy one."

"I can't."

"Why? I don't believe your mother was the sole reason you all got off from Azkaban. Money talks. Just use some of that money now."

"We don't have any left!" Malfoy shouted.

The news hung heavy in the air between them. The silence was deafening. Malfoy looked like he was ready to crumple in on himself, his breathing shallow as he stared at a spot on the floor in shame, unable to meet her eyes. She felt guilty for taunting him.

"Malfoy, I- I'm,"

"The Ministry took it all." Malfoy said hoarsely. "We had some of my mother's inheritance left to live on that she'd kept hidden away, but the Ministry took the entire Malfoy fortune. Not even a knut remains."

Carefully, Hermione took a small step towards him. However, she was still on her guard. "This is one of the grandest rooms I've ever been in." She said honestly. "Where are we? You can't be penniless if you live here."

"We're at Black Manor." Malfoy replied dully. "When my mother died it went it to me. I'm the last of the Blacks. My father is still at Malfoy Manor but it's in disrepair. He won't move out. He says he'll wait until the roof collapses on him. As for the furniture and other objects you'll see around the Manor, they're all fakes. Replicas of what was once true. The Dark Lord sold his followers possessions to raise money and replaced them with fakes. They're convincing, but they won't sell for any money."

A chill went through Hermione as she glanced back at the bed. She'd been asleep on that bed. A bed that Voldemort had conjured.

"Nothing in this manor can harm you." Malfoy said, as if reading her thoughts. "The Ministry confiscated anything dark long ago. And I would not allow anything in the house that would harm my wife."

"Can you read minds?"

"No." Malfoy said patiently. "I was taught to shield my mind from others but not to invade. Your thoughts were just clear on your face."

He did have a point. "I still need proof." Hermione changed the subject. "I want proof of our marriage. Proof of our relationship together."

Malfoy nodded. "Of course. I'll gather some things together; documents, photographs, letters. I'll be right back." He hesitated by the door. "Please stay here." He said quietly. "Please don't run from me again."

Hermione folded her arms and sat on the chaise lounge. Satisfied, Malfoy gave a shy smile and left.

The photograph of their wedding certainly looked convincing enough. She and Draco stood before who she presumed was the officiant. By Draco's side stood Goyle, Pike and Nott. On hers were three girls she did not know in gowns of ruby, clutching white roses as they beamed at her. Draco wore silver dress robes, his blonde hair swept back showing off a blush on his cheeks as he smiled at his wife. Hermione's brown curls cascaded down her back, the tamest she'd ever seen them, while small white flowers and diamonds embedded themselves in her hair. The modest white dress seemed medieval in style, something she had seen Sleeping Beauty wear in her muggle fairytale books, with long organza sleeves trailing down to the floor. The bodice had the same flowers and diamonds that adorned her hair.

But what captured Hermione's interests the most was the look on her face. She had never seen a look like this on her face before. The Hermione in the photograph was looking at Draco as if she was absolutely captivated by her. As if he were the only one in the world she could see. Hermione watched as her photographed self peeped up at her new husband with darkened eyes, so enraptured with love.

Clearing her throat, Hermine asked. "Who are these?"  
Draco smiled. "The bridesmaids? One of them is my cousin, Aelfa. The others are your colleagues from work. Daeva and Lilith. They hope to see you soon, when you're well enough."  
He'd avoided the real question. Where were her friends? Before she could ask, he thrust another photograph into her hands. The Hermione in this one was beaming as she sat at her desk, occasionally laughing at something someone said from behind the camera. It wasn't an office she recognised.

"After the Battle of Hogwarts you worked at the Ministry. You helped people come out of hiding and readjust their lives. You provided support for those who had been persecuted or lost loved ones."

"What did I do once everything had settled down?" She interrupted. "What career have I got?"

Draco looked nervous again, like a small child who has a surprise but isn't sure how his parent was going to take it. "After things had calmed down you took a job working in Muggle Relations. But after we married you decided you needed a break. You'd spent so long fighting and educating people, you just wanted to have a breather." He smiled shyly. "You went on maternity leave."

A warmth rushed to Hermione's heart that she hadn't expected. A glow that felt so overwhelming she thought she might cry. Her skin began to tingle, her breath caught in her chest.

"You – you mean?"

"Yes. There's a couple of children I'd like you to meet."


	3. Chapter 3

p class="MsoNormal"Malfoy had led Hermione down the winding corridors of the Manor, had she been in a better frame of mind she might have stopped to take note of surroundings, but it was taking every ounce of her energy to stay style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"Was he lying?span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanShe wanted to believe he style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanMore than anything Hermione wanted to wake up from this style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHe wasn't unkind to her, far from it, but this couldn't possibly be style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanYet the look in his eyes suggested all style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"Malfoy paused by one of the doors and Hermione felt her heart drop to her style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanThis was the style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal""This is it."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanMalfoy confirmed. Her nerves must have shone through, because he laid his hand on style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"We don't have to do this now."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanbr /Hermione snatched her hand style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"Yes, we do."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHer heart was back in her chest, thudding frantically, her head swimming as if she might be style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"Yes, we do."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"The nursery was picture style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanPale cream walls adorned with paintings of flowers that moved with style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanToys and books were scattered everywhere: a dollhouse in one corner, a rocking horse in style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanThe carpet was soft under her feet, but she felt rooted to the style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"In the centre of the room was a little girl, one and style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanThe child was playing with some wooden blocks, laughing as the tower toppled style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanIt was like looking in a style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanBrown curls were scooped up into two bunchies, a smattering of freckles over a button style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanAs her brown eyes looked up, her small rosebud lips stretched into a huge style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal""Mama!"/p  
p class="MsoNormal"It was like she was style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHermione found herself walking towards to the little girl who eagerly held out her style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanThe warmth that hit her when the child snuggled into her arms was style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanOne hand stroked the curls, while the other clutched her tight as if she would never let style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal""Her name is Elara."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanMalfoy's voice shattered their style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"She's 16 style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanDo you remember her?"/p  
p class="MsoNormal"Hermione felt the tears spilling down her style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"I remember that I love her."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanShe style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"I remember that she's my little girl."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"Elara moved her face from Hermione's shoulder and smiled up at style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanFrowning slightly at the tears on her mother's cheeks, her chubby hand wiped them style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"Happy."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanShe style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"Hermione laughed, taking her little hand and kissing style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"Yes, my style="mso-spacerun: yes;" style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanI am so happy."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"She felt a hand on her shoulder, it was style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanThe urge to shrug him away was still there, though not as style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"We have one more."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHe smiled down at style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"Come and meet Cepheus."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"The baby boy was almost the spitting image of style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanBlonde hair dusted his head while his features leaned towards the sharp angles of the style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanBut it was indisputable, he had Hermione's style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"When Cepheus saw her he kicked his legs and he too held out his arms to style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanElara was still firmly wrapped around her legs, as if worried she might leave style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHermione didn't have too much experience with style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanNormally if she held one she would be sat down while the overbearing mother placed them in her arms, watching like a style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanThis time she was the style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"Cepheus was heavier than expected, but as soon as Hermione had him in her arms, she knew he too belonged style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanThere was no question about it, they were her style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" /p  
p class="MsoNormal" /p  
p class="MsoNormal"Malfoy gave the trio some privacy after style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHermione spent the morning marvelling at the style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanElara delightedly toddling about picking up toys to show her, some she knew the names of, others she made up names style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanCepheus lay on his belly, propping himself up at the elbows and laughing at his style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanWhen he began to cry later, Hermione picked him up and put him to her style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanIt was only after he latched on did the action startle style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanShe'd done it without style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanAn simple action like throwing a ball or using a style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanClearly in the depths of her mind she remembered style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanThe sensation wasn't even strange to her as she'd expected it to style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"A gentle knock on the door came when Hermione was changing Cepheus' style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanMalfoy seemed almost surprised to find her doing style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal""You found everything?"/p  
p class="MsoNormal""Elara was very helpful."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHermione smiled at her style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"She saw me looking in the cupboards and seemed to know what I was looking for."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal""Our daughter is very smart."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanMalfoy style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"Just like her mother."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"He grimaced when Hermione looked away style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal""I'm sorry."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHe style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"It's a learning curve for me style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanI'm eager for everything to back to the way things style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanI know it will take time."/p  
p class="MsoNormal"The guilt pulled at her style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"I'm sorry too."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHermione meant style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"I can't imagine how difficult this must be for style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanI'm willing to try if you are."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"Malfoy's pale face seemed to burst into sunshine, he looked so style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"Thank you, Hermione."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHe style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"Thank you so much."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal""No worries."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHermione style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"Draco."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" /p  
p class="MsoNormal" /p  
p class="MsoNormal"With the children in bed later that evening, Hermione and Draco sat in the lounge, both still smiling from a day with the little ones, but both still unsure of each style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"The lounge was the typical ornate style Hermione had expected to see in the home of a style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanFine damask curtains shrouded the Baroque windows, ornate wallpaper with flecks of silver and gold adorned the walls and all sorts of trinkets lay beautifully on the mahogany style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHaving remembered what Draco had said about the house being full of fakes, Hermione was able to see defections where she wouldn't have been able to style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanTiny flecks of silver paint peeling off an old clock, paintings without the signature of the author and a hazy cracked style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal""I bet you still have a lot of questions."/p  
p class="MsoNormal""I have no idea where to start."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHermione rubbed her style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"I feel like I'm going to style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanMy brain is desperately trying to get things in some sort of order."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"Draco waved his hand style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"Just ask whatever comes to mind first."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal""Where are Ron and Harry?span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanCan we go and see them?"/p  
p class="MsoNormal"The smile dropped, his face style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanFor a moment she saw the face of Draco that she remembered, the angry petulant style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanThe boy who had tormented her for style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHe rose from his seat to stand by the style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanShe watched him as he poured a glass of firewhiskey and knocked it back while staring into the style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHer chest style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal""I want to see them."/p  
p class="MsoNormal""You can't."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanIt was almost a style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHis back was to her, she wasn't sure if she wanted him to turn around or style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"Hermione had two style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanShe could change the subject and hope he played along, spending the next few weeks wondering when she would have her question answered, or she could be brave and pursue style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanThe latter definitely seemed style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal""Why can't I see them?"span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"Draco turned to face her, his hand running through his style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHe seemed calmer, though the hurt had not vanished from his style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"You won't like the answer."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHe responded style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"Fear rose in style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"They're not-"/p  
p class="MsoNormal""They're alive."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHe held up a hand to quiet style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"They're safe and well."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"Hermione did not like the silence that hung in the air between style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanThe look on Draco's face as he looked at his shoes, his hands, anywhere but style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal""Then why can't I see them?"/p  
p class="MsoNormal"The look that crossed Draco's face could only be described as one of style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHis pinched features grew tighter as he raised his eyes to the heavens, as if hoping for style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanWhen he finally managed to look at her, he looked style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal""Your friends didn't like us spending time together."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHis words were soft, but she could tell he was fighting not to spit them out like style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"They liked it far less when we began to notice feelings for one style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanOur relationship remained secret for style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanI wanted you to be honest with them, but you still believed that one day they could grow to like me and then style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanThat day never style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanThey found out about our relationship they gave you an style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanMe or style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanYou struggled with that style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanYour friends were everything to you, but you hated feeling style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanI told you to choose style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanBut when you went back, they told you they never wanted to see you style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanThey've ignored you ever since."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"A tear slid down her style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"I don't believe you."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal""Please don't ask me to produce evidence."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanDraco style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"I don't want to hurt you any more than you're already hurting now."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal""Ron would be angry."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanShe could feel her voice style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"Ron would be style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanBut Harry would talk him style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHe wouldn't like it either, but Harry wouldn't turn his back on style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHe wouldn't turn his back on me."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal""He did, style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanThey all did."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" /p  
p class="MsoNormal"The feather seemed to style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanThe downy barbs softly moving in the wind like a style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanThe breath travelled down the vein bringing it gently to style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanIt quivered with a nervous excitement and slowly began to style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanThe effort seemed to exhaust it however, as it quickly fell down style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"Hermione leant back in her chair in frustration, cursing the unfamiliar wand in her grasp, desperately trying to ignore the niggling feeling of fear./p  
p class="MsoNormal"The Healer opposite her gave an encouraging style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"This may only be temporary."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHe offered style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"I appreciate it must feel frustrating, but please give yourself style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanYour mind needs to style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanIt's a journey, not a sprint."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"Hermione tried to return the smile, not quite able to meet his eyes as she cast the wand down on the style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanShe wasn't used to feeling so inept about her style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanIt was not a feeling she style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal""Would my own wand not work better?"span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanShe style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"It's well known that wands choose their style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanMaybe my magic is fine, maybe it's the style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanMaybe-"/p  
p class="MsoNormal""Maybe a lot of things."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanThe Healer interrupted her, not style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"Unfortunately your wand has been style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanYou know this, Hermione."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"It still didn't feel real to style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanIt felt like she was missing a part of style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanPerhaps she'd feel better about her new life if she still had some connection to her old style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal""Let's stop with the magic for the day."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanThe Healer interrupted her train of style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"When your memory improves, I'm sure your husband will be able to take you to the wand shop and you can get a new style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanPerhaps you're style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanPerhaps a new wand will do you some style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanBut you have to focus on your memory first."/p  
p class="MsoNormal""Wouldn't it be better for me to go outside?"span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanHermione broached, knowing the answer style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"Maybe seeing things again will help me remember?span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanSeeing people?"span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"The smile the Healer gave her wasn't patronising, but she still didn't like it. span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span"You know why, style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanIt could be style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanA sensory overload is the last thing you need right style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanBetter to focus on your life in this house and eventually spread style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanPlease don't feel the need to hurry style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanThe mind is style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /spanI can't guarantee your safety if you leave the house."span style="mso-spacerun: yes;" /span/p 


	4. Chapter 4

The frost on the ground outside slowly began to melt while the buds tentatively raised their heads, eager to bloom again. The cold wind that had once whipped round them like knives slowed down as the rain began to fall. Spring was finally here.

It had been 3 weeks since Hermione had woken up in Draco Malfoy's bed with no recollection of how she got there. The pair had slowly settled into a new routine. Draco would head to work while Hermione looked after their children. He'd come home for dinner and the polite small talk had grown into pleasant conversation. When the children were in bed, Hermione would reach for a book and he would do the same.

She hadn't wanted to admit her keenness for an evening read came because she was still afraid of her situation. The past 3 weeks had persuaded her that Draco was not the bully she once knew, but their domesticated bliss was a facade.

While she adored her children, Hermione was desperately lonely. With Draco at work there was no one to talk to and when he did come home the natural flow of conversation that came from friendship stalled. They were still strangers to one another and despite his gentle encouragement, Hermione still felt like a performing monkey. He would look at her hopefully while bringing up a little anecdote trying to jog her memory. So far nothing had worked, but she couldn't bear the crestfallen look on his face. Or worse, the one oozing with sympathy. In the end she'd resorted to making vague non-committal noises. It seemed to spare the most feelings.

Another frustration was the lack of magic. She was working with the Healer a few evenings a week on basic spells, but so far no progress had been made. After one particularly disastrous session, Hermione had run the shower just to mask the noise of her crying. These were spells she'd practiced on in the summer before she'd started Hogwarts. She was worse now than she was at eleven years old and brand new to it all.

Yet the most devastating thing she'd learned concerned her parents. No one knew where they were. Her parents had disapproved of her marriage to Draco but had born it with a typical British stiff upper lip. When Hermione had her accident, Draco reached out to tell them only to realise he didn't have any of their contact details. He'd never been to their home. Desperate, he had reached out to anyone he thought might know but every door remained closed. In the end he'd had to rely on passing on the message of the accident in the hopes that the Grangers would get in touch. So far they had not. With Hermione's memory gone, she had no idea how to contact them either. The home she'd grown up in and remembered had been ransacked by Death Eaters years before.

The fear that they were angry with her haunted Hermione. How could they have disappeared?

"Focus on you." The Healer said to her, not unkindly. "Your recovery is the most important thing at the moment. Draco is still trying to track them, but the Muggle Relations Department are being rather unhelpful. They are using his past as a Death Eater as an excuse not to help him look for your parents."

"Then let me reach out to them!" It was not the first time they'd had this conversation. "They won't stop me from reaching out to my parents."

"You're a Malfoy now." The Healer said pointedly. "The witch you were before who could open doors is gone. Those doors are closed. While your memory is gone, people will be suspicious of you and your husband. When it starts to return, they will have to listen to you."

There was no point continuing to argue. No doubt this would come up again and for now she was too tired to battle on.

"Has this wand worked any better for you?"

Hermione frowned slightly as she considered it. Ash, thestral hair, 9 and a half inches. Certainly this felt like a more powerful wand compared to the last one she'd tried, but it was like the brakes were on the energy. She could feel it surging through her fingertips but it just wouldn't work as it should.

"No." She sighed. "It's like they're all resisting me."

"Wands tend to backfire if they are resisting." The Healer said reassuringly. "Although their reaction is unsatisfying to you, their lack of the dramatics is also encouraging. It's regretful that Ollivander is no longer with us, hopefully we'll be able to sort something soon."

The Healer's smile was endearing so she tried to return it.

"Something is on your mind?"

"Sorry." Hermione rubbed her temple. "Don't mind me, I'm just tired." She gave an apologetic smile. "Cepheus has been keeping me up again."

It was only a small lie.

The Healer crossed his hands as he leaned forward. "Hermione." He said gently. "I'm not here as a magic tutor. I'm here as your Healer. I'm here to help. The mind is a complex thing and it is necessary for you to confide in someone if you want your memory to improve. If you are not comfortable with me, I can refer you to some of my colleagues."

Hermione waved it away. "Sorry, no, no there's no need for that." She smiled grimly. "Please, I don't want to have to talk through it again with a new person. I'd rather stick with you."

"So, what's on your mind?"

Frustration. Anger. Confusion. Anxiety. Depression. Embarrassment.

"I'm lonely." She said honestly. "Draco keeps telling me about Lilith and Daeva, but it's like he's talking about fictional characters. I don't care about them. I don't remember them. I miss the people I can remember."

The Healer's brown eyes softened. "Draco has explained to you?"

"Yes." She replied bitterly. "I want to ask him more questions, but he just clams up and won't answer. He says he doesn't want to hurt me." A lump started to rise in her throat. "But these are my friends and family we're talking about. All of them too. The life I remember is being kept from me."

"The life you remember is no more." The Healer said gently. "I cannot begin to imagine how you must feel, but Draco is right. You looking to your old life would be detrimental. Think of it this way, your old life did not feature your children. If you turn to your old life, you would be leaving your children behind."

The quill hovered above the parchment. The ink poised and threatening to drip. She watched it gather and grow heavy, bulging together. Her breath froze as she stared at it, waiting for it to make it descent. A drop of black blood. It was oddly captivating. Perhaps it showed how bored she'd grown. That something as simple as ink could make her breathless with anticipation.

It teased her. She would count down, sure that it would fall on her count. Instead it clung to her as a drowning man clings to a raft.

See. It would wink. You can't get rid of me that easily.

When it did finally fall she found she was oddly disappointed. As if she'd been hoping for a worthier opponent stronger than she. The ink spread through the dot on the parchment like a river, tracing out new paths. Hermione shook her head. She would not allow herself to be jealous of ink.

The unspoken words hung heavy in the air, an uncertain taste on her tongue. The taste when you bite into an apple expecting it to be sweet but it is sour. She craved the sweetness of her friends but it was like she was walking into the room blind. What angry words had been spoken that no couldn't be unsaid? Had she been cruel to them? Would her letter prompt a warmth feeling of joy? Or would it be like a cold steel knife cutting from nowhere?

The Harry and Ron she knew would be sympathetic when they found out what had happened to her. They would treat it as a chance for reconciliation. Perhaps they would try and persuade her to leave Draco.

The thought made her feel guilty. Draco had been the perfect gentleman since she'd woken up. There was a loving softness in his eyes when he looked at her, yet he never pushed her. He was gentle and considerate.

But she didn't love him.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't identify with the girl looking at him with such adoration in the photographs.

Perhaps meeting with Harry and Ron again might speed along the process. Maybe something they'd say would trigger a response in her mind and it would all come rushing back. They were her friends. Could they also be her cure?

Then there was Ron. Of course Ron would have been disgusted at her entering a relationship with Draco. There was no doubt in her mind that they'd had one of their explosive fights. But there was blush blossoming under the surface of Hermione's cheeks. Her last day before she woke up was the Battle of Hogwarts. She'd kissed him. He kissed her back. Their buried feelings for one another were finally on the surface. She couldn't tell if Harry was delighted or relieved.

The guilt twisted in her belly making her feel sick. How betrayed had Ron felt? How had their relationship, if they'd ever embarked on one, broken down? How had she gone from a kiss with her best friend to a marriage with his worst enemy? No wonder they didn't speak to her anymore.

She would change that, she thought decisively. She would set things right.

The quill touched the parchment.


End file.
